Mirror, Mirror
by Steph -Ifni no Miko
Summary: Another look into Reno's mind. o.O


#  Mirror, Mirror 

* * *

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, be the reflection for us all, hide the truth and tell the lies, blink at me with your silver eyes ... 

It's funny. So frickin' hilarious. Standing here staring at myself, preening like schoolgirl while his blood is pooling on the floor. Turquoise eyes, my own little gemstones, wink at me. 

Yeah, you're a hottie, Reno, revel in it. Your gun is smoking, blow it out, pose for the camera. Smile a little wider, wink a little broader, fling that crimson hair out of your eyes and make your watcher's eyes burn with it. 

Mirror, mirror, on the wall ... 

If I touch the mirror, will it touch me back? Reach out with cold fingers and caress my cheek like a lover. Ice cold lover. Beautiful lover. Yes, I'm conceited. 

There's no room for anyone else in my mirrored little mind. That's why yer dead, I say with a grin and kick the corpse, mocking. 

Just an assignment. Seek and destroy like the pretty little weapon you are. I blow a kiss at the flatterer in the mirror. 

Corruption and lies behind the smooth lines and the pretty face. Just like the people I work for. It's so ironic, isn't it? 

The blood pools around my shoes now, staining my footprints red. You'll know me by the trail of scarlet I leave. Crimson flaming on the ground, crimson sparking from a gun, crimson burning through your body. 

So what's reality and what's fantasy? You're my fantasy. Ice cold lover, sharp edged desire. Cut me, slash me, puncture me, make me what you want me to be. 

It's all lies. Who am I? 

A reflection of me. 

You're just my face, babe, just my cover. My smiling lips and my ocean eyes. My perfect disguise. 

Hide the truth, tell the lies ... 

A kiss for you, a tongue trailing across the hot surface of my gun, licking across the circle of the smoking end. Swallow it whole, letting it slide, hot and smooth, to touch the back of my throat. 

I know it turns you on, lover. It turns _ me _ on ... but I'm such a sick bastard. 

Sweetheart, flattery gets you no where ... but with me ... it gets you everywhere. 

Heh, I like you. You're a little bit of me and I'm a little bit of you. 

Who's the reflection? 

I could pull the trigger and find out. Shatter the mirror, swallow the bullet like sex and blood and alcohol dreams. Rip me up inside where you can't see. 

And that's the secret, isn't it? Where _ you _ can't see. There's so many lies even _ I _ can't tell what's real and what's not, what I made up and what really happened. 

How much can you know, pretty little thing? 

I know you talk to yourself. In the mirrors. To the corpses. I laugh, pulling the gun out to press the slick barrel to my neck, like a whore's kiss, warm and wet and sticky. 

That you make love to nothing but glass and dreams, with knives and electric rods, because you can't have what you really want. 

Heh, you're such a liar. What do you know? 

Who's who? 

I'm reality, sweet-lips, you're the illusion. 

Are you sure? That's my prey spilling his blood and guts across your shoes, that's _ my _ gun you hold so close and lick the ash from, that's _ my _ smile you're wearin' on _ my _ pretty, frickin' face. 

But they're my eyes, lovely. And the eyes are the soul. 

Reflection. 

Refraction. 

A smoking bullet to send you on your way. A tinkling as the glass falls away. Accusing eyes from a thousand fragmented shards. 

I'm you. You can't forget. You can't escape. 

Who says I want to? I love you. 

Lying, lying lips. Beautiful lips, kissing lips, seducing lips. I hate you. 

I need you. Lips pressed to cold lips, licking across the razor's edge in a hot, bloody kiss. I want you. 

I have you. 

Whatever you want to believe. I'll make it true. After all, what's another lie? 

A slamming as I close the door, grinning with bleeding, bruised lips at my partner in crime. 

Eyebrows raise behind glasses, black mirrors to taunt me with myself. Gorgeous. Frickin' beautiful to see me where your eyes should be, Rude. Such a turn on. 

What happened? He asks. 

What do you think? I answer with a smirk, running my tongue over the bleeding cuts, feeling the rush of pleasure at his look, the black reflections smirking at me in orgasmic glee. 

I think you're insane. 

I laugh. 

The maze of glass so crystalline, shattered labyrinth inside the mind, in the mirror's gaze you will find, that cracked thing you left behind ... 

OWARI 


End file.
